


and in the half-light

by feidlimid



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Comfort Sex, Face-Fucking, Friends With Benefits, Going Seventeen 2020 #46, Hyung kink...but make it emotional, Kwon Soonyoung in a Crop Top That's the Fic, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28788420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feidlimid/pseuds/feidlimid
Summary: But something about the way the breeze hits his stomach, the way the denim scratches up his sides, making him feel overexposed and underprepared, has him landing on the wrong foot. He tries to get comfortable in his poses as Mingyu snaps a few practice shots, but it’s like continually hitting the 7 when it should be the 8.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 115





	and in the half-light

**Author's Note:**

> cw: anxiety 
> 
> I don't want to imply that Hoshi's shyness or hesitance in Gose #46 means that he had an anxiety attack of some kind. I'm not a doctor, I don't know him, and I don't think anyone has the right to pathologize someone's experience in that way. But, in case the way I imagined his internal experience might resonate with someone's experience of anxiety or panic attacks, I just wanted to give a heads up.
> 
> title from [Opened Once](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LT3cb9C-b6U) by Jeff Buckley.

Soonyoung can feel their eyes raking over him, feels an itch growing underneath his skin. It’s cold in the studio...colder than anyone would expect with all thirteen of their bodies and god knows how many PDs milling around. 

When he asked Minghao to make him look sexy, he meant it in the way that he means everything, somewhere straddling the line of seriousness and a joke. Sometimes he can’t tell the difference himself. But something about the way the breeze hits his stomach, the way the denim scratches up his sides, making him feel overexposed and underprepared, has him landing on the wrong foot. He tries to get comfortable in his poses as Mingyu snaps a few practice shots, but it’s like continually hitting the 7 when it should be the 8. He shifts his weight from leg to leg a few times before Minghao comes over. 

“Hyung, you should unbutton the top, if you keep it buttoned, the effect…” He unfastens them, fingers moving so quickly that Soonyoung doesn’t even have the time to debate. 

He knows Minghao is right, and yet, he can’t help but feel a little like one of the paper dolls he and his sister would make up stories about when they were kids. It shouldn’t be any different from how he’s felt on other solo shoots--better even--with all of the members handling everything from styling to hair to Mingyu’s eye for lighting and direction. And yet, since the moment the members reacted to his outfit, a chorus of whoops and catcalls-- _supportive I know, but_ \--he hasn’t been able to stop tugging at the bottom of his jacket, fingers getting sweatier and twitchier with each passing moment. 

The backdrop feels slippery underneath his feet…it’s not like he hasn’t worn revealing things before. Pants so tight they left little to the imagination, shirts unbuttoned to nearly Mingyu-levels of exposure. But showing this patch of skin, somehow feels like showing off all the vulnerable parts of himself he’s so careful to manage. No one would ever say he’s not soft, open, available. The amount of times he finds himself on VLIVE just to talk or responding to random messages on Weverse immediately shuts down assumptions like that. Being guarded has always been the territory of other members...he respects their coping mechanisms for the absurd situation they’ve found themselves in...but he’s never wanted to close himself off. Now, however, with the eyes of most of the members trained straight on his belly button, he wants nothing more than to curl into a fuzzy sweater and hide in a corner.

“Hoshi-yah, can you raise your arms?” The click of Mingyu’s shutter shakes Soonyoung out of his thoughts. 

“Uh, yeah, my arm? Okay.” Soonyoung tries to sound chipper but knows it comes out tense, like he’s wound up like a spring. 

He tips his arm up at an angle and thanks God and Jihoon-- _same thing really_ \--for making a curtain of his bangs. He can’t really see how the members are reacting, but he can hear them. Seungcheol and Chan are calling out encouragement...appreciated, but just making him feel more like everyone can see every single molecule of his body. Seokmin, offering suggestions and poses, trying to banter and keep the mood light...and yet, Soonyoung’s arm feels more and more like lead with each passing second.

He lets their voices fade away into the rest of the cacophony around him, tries to focus on the rhythm of the shutter, clicking away frames, breaking him into little pieces he knows he’ll hyper-analyze in the late night hours when he’s alone in his room... _it’s not working_. Soonyoung shifts his strategy, tries to pick out the individual notes that make up the symphony of movement around him. Chan’s drawled praise, the crackle of Seungcheol’s laughter, Joshua and Jihoon in the corner consulting about accessories. The sound of a table scraping against the floor as a PD shifts it to the back. The creak of the couch as Seungkwan peels himself up and heads to their makeshift DJ booth. 

Shifting his angle for Mingyu to take the bust shots, Soonyoung breathes in and realizes he’s echolocated nearly everyone in the room except...Wonwoo. He knows he’s there.. _.somewhere_...hewing to the job Mingyu’s assigned him like it’s actual employment. Soonyoung reaches up to shift the brim of the hat even further down his forehead and chances a look from beneath it.

Wonwoo holds the camera steady, stoically looking at the screen. Quiet, still, just watching Soonyoung’s every move, letting the reflection wash over the lenses of his glasses. He shuffles a little to the left when Mingyu does, then his eyes flick up to look over his glasses. A breath catches in Soonyoung’s throat when their eyes meet. Wonwoo doesn’t hold his gaze for long, but when he looks back down, a smile, soft around the corners and nearly melting away his blasé facade, plays along his lips before it disappears. 

A blink and you’d miss it moment, Soonyoung thinks...and yet he can’t help but return it. His lips quirk up into a pout, the way he knows makes Wonwoo weak in the knees. He’s rewarded with the sight of Wonwoo’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows _hard,_ eyes trained on the screen in front of him. 

“Hyung, tilt your chin up a little. Let us see your neck.” Seokmin is still playing stage mom, but suddenly Soonyoung feels ready to oblige. He leans his head back and imagines Wonwoo’s shoulders behind it, hands ghosting across his body. _Click, click_ , with every image that comes up on the monitor, a chorus of praise from the audience...and silence from Wonwoo, beyond the soft flush across his cheekbones that’s amplifying its reach with every moment. 

“Dino-yah, get me some water? It’s hot up here,” Soonyoung languidly calls out, feeling himself sink into his body, into his poses, into the gaze that’s holding him up behind the camera.

“Yeah, you are,” Chan leers...earnestly, an emotion only he’s capable of, Soonyoung thinks, before reappearing with a water bottle from the cooler next to the couch.

Soonyoung leans back and drinks, letting a little run out of the corners of his mouth and down his neck...exactly in the way Wonwoo had told him he liked it--between panting in his ear and stroking his cock. He blushes a little from the memory, before squeezing the empty bottle in his hand and tossing it to the side.

“Tiger, look at the tiger!” Jeonghan and Jun yell out from the couch, almost simultaneously curling their hands into claws. Soonyoung laughs, knowing Mingyu’s camera will perfectly catch the flash of teeth, feeling the atmosphere shift as Wonwoo takes in a quiet breath, then steadies himself on his feet.

“Hoshi-yah, turn for me? Good, perfectttt,” Mingyu drags out the last syllable. “Okay, I think we’re good. Next person!” Soonyoung tips his hat comically, before stepping off of the backdrop and into the waiting audience.

“Hyung, those pictures are seriously…” Chan pats him on the shoulder, but now that the light’s off of him and the floor feels cold against his bare feet, he shivers a little at the contact. Without the steadiness of the shutter and with everyone’s attention turned to complimenting Mingyu, he feels unmoored in his body, small and peeled a little raw. 

“Hoshi-yah, those were the best ones so far, really,” Seungcheol’s eyes are shining with pride. Soonyoung does his best to respond, but knows his words come out a little wobbly, like a five-year-old trying to write his feelings with a pen a few sizes too big. Seungcheol doesn’t really seem to notice, too caught up now in the posing masterclass Minghao is running in front of the camera.

Soonyoung sits back on the couch, wrinkled fabric against smooth skin, and takes off the hat. Without thinking, he wraps his arms around his waist, and folds himself cross-legged. His bangs are too shaggy now, falling into his eyes, and as he sweeps them out of his face, he notices Wonwoo pass off the camera to Seungcheol. Probably getting a snack...he noticed they had his favorite crackers out today. Soonyoung doesn’t bother to trace his path, trying to focus on the pads of his fingers warmly weighting his body to itself, holding him together against the fragmented thoughts that threaten to unravel him. The metal studs in the denim are cold where they bury into his skin, and he pulls the hem of the jacket down again, feeling increasingly needy for coverage against the draftiness of the studio. He startles a little when his collar is gently pulled back.

“ _You, me, bathroom, now._ ” Wonwoo’s voice thrums against his earlobe before going straight to the pit of his stomach. He hears Wonwoo turn on his heel, counts ten paces, twenty, before getting up to follow him. Soonyoung honestly doesn’t know why they keep up this charade...all of the members know what’s going on between them anyway. And yet, some things are too close to say out loud, needing the theatrics of secrecy if not the substance. 

The door clicks shut behind Soonyoung. Wonwoo leans against one of the two sinks, arms crossed and brows drawn in scrutiny.

“What?” Soonyoung tries to sound nonchalant, to not give in to the concern radiating off Wonwoo. He bites his lip nervously anyway.

“I...you good?” Wonwoo takes a step towards him, and Soonyoung regrets deciding to stand against the door. He feels a little claustrophobic, knows that Wonwoo sees through him to all the parts he doesn’t want exposed...to those he _does._

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine, _I’m_ fine. This was fun. Can’t believe how good, Gyu i-” His words are cut off as Wonwoo crowds him against the door and brushes his hair back and out of his face. Soonyoung tips his head back to look up at him, feeling his heart begin to pound in his ears at the intensity of Wonwoo’s stare. 

“Soonyoung-ah,” his voice feels like a caress, touched with gentle softness that Soonyoung knows is reserved just for him. “You looked so good for me out there.” 

Their chests rise and fall together, and as Wonwoo slowly slides his hands down Soonyoung’s face, his chest, until they find their way to the bare skin of his stomach, Soonyoung feels himself come together again. Wonwoo touches him like every inch of his body is a song, like he’s a story to unfold in human form...like he’s holy.

Wonwoo’s fingers splay across his midriff, and he squeezes, just a little, before leaning down to catch Soonyoung’s lips in a kiss. The contact blooms across his face, flushing his cheeks with color, as he twines his hands around Wonwoo’s neck and drags him closer. He’s the first to deepen the kiss, chasing Wonwoo’s tongue and licking into his mouth with unabashed hunger. Wonwoo growls a little under his breath, slipping his thigh in between Soonyoung’s legs, as if he knows he’s already half-hard and looking for something to rut against. The friction sends a jolt through Soonyoung’s body, and he buries his hands in Wonwoo’s hair as they press against the bathroom door. He feels himself drowning in the easiest way possible, the yelling in his head silenced and filled up only with the sound of breath and spit and his name whispered on Wonwoo’s tongue. It’s only when Wonwoo slides his hands underneath the jacket that Soonyoung comes up for breath.

“Your hands are...warm?”

“Camera’s hotter than you think. You should try it out before we finish today.” Wonwoo breathes against his neck, and Soonyoung shudders at the sensation. He scrabbles for purchase against the door, as Wonwoo mouths a line down his neck, prying the jacket collar away to reveal the smooth skin underneath. Suddenly, Soonyoung feels his hand give way beneath him, the slippery touch of cold metal sliding against his palm when he leans on the door handle.

“I got you, I got you,” Wonwoo breathes out, catching him before he falls. “But maybe let’s move somewhere...more secure?”

Soonyoung nods, chasing the other man’s mouth and pushing him back towards one of the stalls. Wonwoo slides the lock closed behind them with a solid clack. The sound makes something inside Soonyoung slip into place, as their lips meet again with growing desperation. Soonyoung kisses down Wonwoo’s jaw, pulling aside his turtleneck to suck another bruise to match the ones already ripening underneath.

“Mmm, Soonyoung-ah…” Wonwoo flinches and throws his head back, banging it against the door. 

“Careful,” Soonyoung mutters out, before reaching his hands beneath Wonwoo’s sweater to toy with his peaked nipples. The broken cry he lets out lights a fire in Soonyoung’s chest. He presses against the taller man against the door, letting the friction between their bodies drive him closer and closer to the edge. 

He’s too distracted by the messy kisses being placed behind his ear, too focused on chasing his pleasure, to remember the added muscle that Wonwoo had put on in the last year. So, when Wonwoo flips their bodies around, slamming Soonyoung’s back against the door, the breath gets a little knocked out of him. His lips part in a little “O” when he looks up at Wonwoo. Soonyoung watches as the other man licks his lips, looking him up and down, before beginning to slide down his body, hands worshipfully caressing the bare skin at his belly.

Wonwoo’s knees hit the floor with a solid thunk, and Soonyoung feels his mouth go a little dry in anticipation. Hands trail at his sides again, feel like static electricity against his skin, so different from the itchiness he had felt before. As he looks down and runs his fingers through Wonwoo’s dark hair, his brain beats out a litany-- _Yes, I want to show you this, yes this is all yours, take it however you want_. Wonwoo’s breath comes out hot on Soonyoung’s skin, and he gasps a little in the back of his throat.

“I can’t believe how hot you look in this,” Wonwoo murmurs. The low vibration of his voice buzzes against Soonyoung’s body. It sends a thrill through every part of him, but roots him to the spot, like Wonwoo is the bass note in the chord their bodies sound together. 

Wonwoo’s teeth gently graze across his midriff, making Soonyoung hiss at the touch. He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you better not leave a mark.”

“I won’t. Promise,” Wonwoo hums against his belly button, before leaving open-mouthed kisses on every bit of skin he can reach. The wet swipe of his tongue makes Soonyoung shiver, makes him feel eaten alive in the best possible way. Like body and blood made sacred by the all-consuming heat of Wonwoo’s desire. Wonwoo runs his hands up Soonyoung’s thighs before unbuttoning his pants, torturously deliberate with every move.

“Fuck, you’re killing me, Wonwoo-yah.”

“I know...that’s my intention,” he smirks over his glasses, and Soonyoung almost feels like he could cum then and there. He pitches his hips forward like they’re pulled by an unseen string.

“I’m gonna suck you off, is that okay?” It’s ridiculous, Soonyoung thinks with the three brain cells he has left. The way Jeon Wonwoo can say the lewdest shit in the most tender of tones, like he’s asking how your grandma’s doing, not if he can commit unspeakable acts on your body in a semi-public place...

Soonyoung bobs his head vigorously, eliciting a chuckle from Wonwoo, who slides the denim and cotton boxer-briefs down to hang around Soonyoung’s thighs. He has to bite his hand to stop from crying out when Wonwoo takes him into his mouth. It’s soft and so fucking warm and wet that it almost makes him forget the feeling of cold metal against his back. He can’t stop the whimper that escapes his lips when Wonwoo _drags_ his tongue along the underside of his cock, delicious and slow. Wonwoo looks up over his glasses as he slides even further down, letting Soonyoung feel his throat contract around him, before pulling back and finding a slow, steady rhythm.

“Why are you the literal devil, Jeon?” Soonyoung grits out, stifling the moan that threatens to echo loud enough to give away their location.

“What else can I be when you’re constantly tempting me to sin?” Wonwoo grins self-satisfiedly before taking the head of Soonyoung’s cock in his mouth and _sucking_ , making Soonyoung see stars behind his eyelids. He kitten licks the precum off the tip, savoring the taste greedily, before his eyes flutter shut and he parts his lips to take Soonyoung back in.

“S-shit,” Soonyoung stutters out, knees buckling at the feeling. He catches himself before Wonwoo pulls himself off his cock with a lewd pop. His lips are spit-slick and swollen--it does nothing to help.

“Easy, tiger.” Wonwoo’s voice comes out thick and a little hoarse, and Soonyoung’s eyes roll back in his head a little as he sinks back down on his cock. Wonwoo’s blow jobs are never sloppy, but the noises that he makes as he sucks Soonyoung further and further in make the older man whisper a string of curses. Wonwoo swallows around him, and Soonyoung does his best to stop from fucking into his throat, letting Wonwoo set the pace. He does, that is, until Wonwoo looks up at him with pupils blown out, face soft and debauched in the grey half-light flooding through the window, and taps his hip. 

“Wonwoo, please, is it…?” He doesn’t have to wait for an answer as Wonwoo _moans_ when Soonyoung tangles his fingers deeper into his hair and begins to rock his hips forward. He hisses as his balls tighten with arousal, and picks up the pace, starting to feel unhinged as Wonwoo goes pliant beneath him. Every time they fuck, stealing away moments in bedrooms, in practice rooms, whenever they can get a chance, it’s always like this--Wonwoo meeting Soonyoung where he is and giving him exactly what he needs. Ready to meet him with all his complications and contradictions, to take him apart and put him back together again. It’s almost too much, it’s honestly never enough. Head full of cotton balls and sweat starting to slip down his back, Soonyoung feels his cock begin to throb, begging for release.

“Ah- f-fuck, Wonwoo, stop, stop, I’m gonna…” Soonyoung tries to stop his thrusts, placing a hand on Wonwoo’s broad shoulder. He hears a muffled grunt in response, as Wonwoo only grips his hip more tightly, reaching his other hand back to squeeze Soonyoung’s ass. He falls apart at the touch, choking back a wail and hips stuttering beyond his control as he cums in the warm heat of Wonwoo’s mouth. Gasping, he braces himself--a handprint where the heat of his skin meets the cold metal wall.

Wonwoo sits back on his heels...or as much as he can in the cramped stall and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Soonyoung is still catching his breath but can’t help but feel another twinge deep in his abdomen when Wonwoo’s pink tongue slips out to lick a drop of cum that made its way to the back of his hand. His pants are doing nothing to hide the hard-on straining against them, and Soonyoung feels his mouth water. He whimpers and makes to join Wonwoo on the stall floor, before strong hands stop his descent.

“Haha, not yet, not yet,” Wonwoo stands up and adjusts himself. “If we don’t head back out, they’re going to wonder where we went _out loud._ ” He nuzzles Soonyoung’s neck and smiles at the groan that seeps out of his lips. “But...you free tonight?”

“Yeah, your place or mine?”

“You know yours. Mingyu would never forgive me for sexiling him...especially after he worked soooo hard today.” Wonwoo hitches his voice slightly up in an imitation of Mingyu’s irritated whine.

“You’re right…” Soonyoung breathes out, barely stifling the laughter that bubbles up in his chest. He pulls back from Wonwoo’s embrace and lets the air between them go quiet. They settle into a familiar silence, colored with a little more _something_. Soonyoung can’t put the words to it yet. He knows he doesn’t need to.

Wonwoo splashes his face with water, before putting on his glasses again and gesturing to a plastic bag in the corner. 

“I brought your other clothes...just in case you wanted to change or something.” 

“Yeah...uh, thanks...thanks, _hyung._ ” Soonyoung scratches the back of his neck and looks down, willing his returning blush to fade away. He knows what the word does to Wonwoo in bed, but trying it out here feels a little like tasting a peach out of season.

Wonwoo freezes at the term of endearment, smiling quietly at Soonyoung before pocketing it away and turning toward the door. 

“My pleasure, Soonyoungie. See you back out there.” The door swings shut behind him. 

Soonyoung takes a deep breath and grabs the clothes from the bag, slipping off the jeans and stepping into his black sweatpants. They’re soft against him, sealing Wonwoo’s touch firmly against his skin. He looks in the mirror, musses his hair back to its previous degree of planned shagginess, and steps back out into the studio.

Seungkwan and Seokmin have made their way to the DJ booth at this point. Soonyoung tosses them a smile as he strides past. They both pretend to be none the wiser...their team doesn’t get called the kings of performance for nothing. 

Wonwoo has already returned to his station next to Mingyu by the time Soonyoung gets back to the couch, but he soon hands the camera to Chan and walks over to where Minghao and Joshua are waiting by the clothes rack.

Minghao has any number of wide collared shirts picked out-- _we need_ _to show off your collarbones, hyung--_ and Soonyoung knowingly smirks to himself as Wonwoo turns down each one, opting for a wide scarf instead. He doesn’t realize he’s watching until Wonwoo looks over and raises an eyebrow. 

Soonyoung raises one right back before going over to Chan and asking for an explanation of how to work the camera. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just think they're nifty. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and if you enjoyed, please leave some kudos or a comment! 
> 
> Infinite gratitude to everyone who listened to me scream about all the thoughts and feelings that spawned in my head post-Gose #46, and to my beloved beta readers who cheered me on to churn this out, while kindly ignoring the cursed mix of Stray Kids and Jeff Buckley that pushed it over the finish line.
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/TheS_standsfor)/[cc](https://curiouscat.me/TheS_standsfor)


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